Executive Director, shall I book a room ?? - Chapter 2

I always knew there’d come a day when I’d see him again.

But I never imagined it would be like this—not in the familiar backdrop of our office, not after bypassing all the other subsidiaries of HJ Group, and certainly not in the back offices of Hotel Lavita.

And Junseong’s attitude? Completely different from what I’d expected.

I wasn’t naive enough to think he’d act all friendly like before, but still. This was too cold, too professional. It stung a little.

“Does he really not remember me?”

I mean, it’s not unbelievable, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Trying to steady my racing heart, I fumbled for my phone and dashed toward the emergency stairwell, my fingers trembling as I dialled a familiar number.

The moment the fire exit door slammed behind me, the call connected.

“Hey, Cha Soo-hyuk!”

—My ears aren’t broken.

His infuriatingly relaxed tone made me want to scream, but I swallowed it down.

“I just saw Junseong. Don’t you think I deserve an explanation?”

—Oh, did Junseong appear in your dreams? Congrats. Now let me go back to sleep.

“I’m not joking! Did you know he was coming back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

—Give me one good reason, in 100 characters or less, why I should’ve told you.

“Are you serious right now?”

—Pfft. Your reactions are half the fun.

Soo-hyuk, my college friend—somewhere between a sworn enemy and a best friend—laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

And as Junseong’s childhood friend, he was also the only person who knew how I felt.

Unfortunately.

“Can you be serious for once? I’m freaking out here!”

—Why so dramatic? Didn’t you join that hotel hoping to run into him someday?

“I never said that!”

—Relax, I’m kidding. But come on. Who else would’ve been as clueless as you back in college? You were the only one who didn’t realize Junseong was a chaebol heir.

Yeah. And in hindsight, that was probably for the best.

I am glad I couldn’t confess, and glad we drifted apart.

Some trees aren’t meant to be climbed. If you force it, the only way down is a crash landing.

That’s what I’d told myself for years. I thought I’d reached a point where, if I ever saw him again, I could just smile and say hello like a normal person.

“Ugh…”

Yeah, right.

Just thinking about our encounter made my heart pound like a drum. I gritted my teeth, trying to calm down, but Soo-hyuk’s amused voice cut in.

—So? How’d he react? Did he say anything?

“Say anything? I blacked out the second I saw him! I don’t even remember how I got out of there!”

—PFFHAHAHA—!

“It’s not funny! Out of all places, why here? Ugh, I wish he hadn’t recognized me… Wait, no. I think he didn’t recognize me.”

—What’re you talking about now?

“Ugh, whatever. I’ll just act normal. He’s just a Executive Director now, right? Deep breaths. Stay calm. If he does remember me, I’ll just play it cool—‘Oh, you remember me? How nice!’—and keep it casual. Right? That’ll work, won’t it?”

—Wow. Delusional much?

I ignored his sarcasm and took another deep breath.

Positive self-talk. That’s the key. Stay calm, focus on work, make money, and peace will follow—

—Then again… He never asked about you, never reached out. Maybe he did cut ties on purpose. Maybe he really doesn’t remember.

…So why did that hurt?

“W-Well, yeah. Obviously.”

—The real question is, why would he go that far? I get you being awkward, but why would he cut off a friend like that?

His deliberately drawn-out tone grated on my nerves.

“I-I mean, he was busy studying abroad! He didn’t have time to worry about people back home. It’s normal!”

—That’s it? Nah. The Junseong I know wouldn’t ditch a friend over something that petty.

“…”

—Honestly, as a guy, there’s only one reason I’d distance myself from a female friend like that.

“…”

—Like if things got awkward between us. Say, if one side caught feelings and got rejected. Or if someone was painfully oblivious to the other’s advances.

“HA! ‘Advances’? We’re talking about Song Junseong here.”

—Just saying. But if that stubborn guy did have something buried in his heart all these years… Whoa. Okay, that’s kinda chilling—

**CLICK.**

I hung up before he could finish.

What the hell was that? Some kind of horror story?

“That’s ridiculous. It’s way more realistic that he just didn’t remember me.”

As if Song Junseong would ever be hung up on me.

The third son of HJ Group’s chairman. A perfect man with wealth, brains, and looks—currently the hottest eligible bachelor in the business world. The only one of his brothers who followed the elite path, now the most likely successor.

That Song Junseong?

“You’ve completely lost it.”

The gap between us was cosmic. What kind of nonsense was Soo-hyuk spewing?

“No, I’m the crazy one. Ugh… Why did I ever tell him?”

If I could, I’d bash my own skull in to erase the memory of drunkenly sobbing to Soo-hyuk about missing Junseong.

But what’s done is done.

At least he’d kept his promise—for over seven years, not a soul knew. If he’d spilled, our friendship would’ve ended long ago. I probably wouldn’t even be working here.

And I definitely wouldn’t have seen Junseong today.

“Well, at least I’ve got one lifelong friend. That’s enough. What more could I ask for?”

I forced a laugh and stuffed my phone back into my pocket.

I’d never let myself want more. Not then, not now.

The feverish crush I’d suffered through had long since cooled into nostalgia. I’d survived just fine without him all these years—sure, it was a little sad, but it wasn’t agonizing.

Romance never interested me much anyway. I’d tried dating a couple of times under pressure, but it never stuck.

Instead, I threw myself into work. Becoming a hotelier gave my aimless life its first real direction.

Was it a coincidence that I’d chosen Hotel Lavita, tied to Junseong’s family? Maybe not. But in the end, I’d found my place here. I’d met great people.

That was enough. Or so I’d thought.

I shook my head and turned back toward the office.

“What am I even thinking? Get it together. Focus on work.”

One look at him, and I’m already a mess?

I quickened my pace, as if I could outrun my own thoughts. Today would be a struggle, but for a corporate drone like me, emotional indulgence was a luxury I couldn’t afford.

—

Two Weeks Later

“Wait, what? You went to the same school as the Executive Director ? And you were friends?”

“Shh! Keep your voice down—!”

I lunged to cover Manager vNa’s mouth, but it was too late. Of course she’d blurt this out in the employee cafeteria at lunchtime.

“No way! You and Executive Director Song were classmates?”

“Wait, hold on—what kind of classmates? High school? College?”

“‘Friends’ as in actual friends? Not just ‘oh, we were in the same class once’? Am I hearing this right?”

Like vultures, my teammates swarmed in, firing questions. Even worse, I could feel eavesdroppers tuning in from a 10-meter radius. The power of the words “Executive Director ” was terrifying.

It had been two weeks since the infamous “parachute” made his grand entrance.

Song Junseong.

The youngest Executive Director in HJ Group’s history.

Just being the chairman’s son was shocking enough, but his actual appearance sent the entire company into hysterics.

[OMG! OMG! OMG! THIS IS INSANE! HOW IS HE THAT GOOD-LOOKING?!]

[I’ve only seen him in photos, but today I saw him IRL and nearly went blind. NO CAMERA CAN CAPTURE HIS TRUE FORM.]

[I just took a selfie with him in the background and almost threw my phone after seeing my face. HOW AM I THIS UGLY IN COMPARISON? Unfair. This man is playing life on god mode.]

[Starting today, I’m using his photos for prenatal education. Eye bleach. Natural LASIK. My soul is at peace. Side effects may include husband looking like a squid…]

[His face is a benefit. Our Executive Director provides ocular welfare!]

From day one, the company’s messenger and intranet exploded with gushing testimonials and stealth photos.

“He held the elevator for me when I was late!”
“He always greets me first!”
“I tried to sneak a pic, but he caught me and smiled!”

None of it was particularly remarkable, but when it came to him, even the smallest gesture was treated like gospel.

But there’s a limit to everything.